


words hung above (but never would form)

by glitteringmoonlight



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Ambassador Sokka (Avatar), Firelord Zuko (Avatar), Fluff, M/M, Post-Canon, Zuko (Avatar) Needs a Hug, Zuko Deserves Nice Things, Zuko is an Awkward Turtleduck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-30
Updated: 2020-08-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:28:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25608133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glitteringmoonlight/pseuds/glitteringmoonlight
Summary: Sokka always dropped declarations of affection into conversations in a casual manner, like he didn’t think twice about saying those things. But everytime he did it, Zuko felt his heart skip a few beats. He would spend hours later, agonizing and over-analyzing them. He’d never let those thoughts show on his face though.Or, 3 times Zuko pines silently after Sokka, and the 1 time he does something about his feelings.
Relationships: Sokka/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 49
Kudos: 736





	1. The First Time

Zuko tosses and turns again. It’s the third time this week he’s had the same thoughts keeping him up. He sighs, sits up, and pulls his now long hair away from where the strands are sticking to his neck and ties them up into a messy bun. The minute he finishes, the hair falls out of the updo and he huffs. Technically, he could order someone into his room to do it for him, but it’s the middle of the night and that’s not a precedent he wants to set. He’s barely gotten the servants to understand that they aren’t going to be punished for something like tying the sash of his robes too tight.

Realizing he isn’t going to get much sleep anyway, he gets out of bed and makes his way to the kitchens as quietly as possible, gesturing to the guards that he didn’t need anyone accompanying him. That’s another recent development- he’s only just managed to convince his guards that he won’t trip and fall into an assassination plot the minute they let him out of sight. A part of him is flattered and amused by how protective they are of him, but the other part, the part that has been a refugee and a fugitive, is just annoyed by it. He is careful to let the guards see only the amusement though- showing his displeasure would only frighten them.

He finds the dark and empty kitchens comforting. Nobody is here to watch his actions, or to insist that he let them do whatever task he is engaged in. there are no lingering gazes at his scar, no hurriedly averted eyes, no looks of sympathy. Here, he is simply a boy of nineteen attempting to make himself a cup of chamomile tea to soothe his frayed nerves. There is no need to put on a mask.

He sighs deeply as he watches the tea steep. It would be hours before dawn, before he could actually find some purpose, something to distract him from the thoughts that were being especially loud. He can’t stop his mind from wandering back to the very thoughts that had been keeping him awake. It had been a recurring, legitimate worry, one he needed to deal with. He really couldn’t afford to lose anymore sleep this way.

The hiss of the boiling water brings him out of his thoughts. Shaking his head to clear his mind, he carries his teapot over to one of the tables set at one end of the kitchen. Rummaging in the cupboards, he finds a cup and sits down with his drink. He takes a long sip, savoring the taste greatly. The years have given him an unexpected appreciation for tea, if only because it reminded him so much of Uncle. He misses the man immensely, but he understands his need to be away from the Fire Nation. He feels like running away sometimes too.

_Maybe I should run away_ , he thinks. _Maybe I can go somewhere the fears can’t follow._ But even as he thinks it, he knows it is a futile hope. No matter where he goes, no matter how far or fast he runs, he’s not going to escape this. And he has a responsibility now. He is the Firelord, and he cannot afford to be the kind of Firelord his father was. The Fire Nation is in his hands, no matter how badly he’s handling the responsibility.

“Aren’t you meant to be in bed, your Flaminess?”, calls a familiar voice from behind him, interrupting his wallowing. “I hear the beds in the Firelord’s chambers are particularly comfortable.”

“Shouldn’t you be in bed too?”, Zuko asks pointedly, raising an eyebrow and turning to face his friend. Sokka, who has only been in the Fire Nation for a few days, seems to take a particular form of pleasure in mothering him. Zuko gives him a baleful glare, but it seems to do nothing to deter the other man.

“I was drawn here by some mysterious power”, Sokka replies, grinning.

“You mean your stomach?”, Zuko snorts. Sokka’s smile only widens, if that was even possible.

“Sure, you could call it that”, he says, coming to stand right behind Zuko, leaning his arm on Zuko’s chair. “Aren’t you lucky that I did come here tonight?”

Zuko chooses not to respond to this, simply taking another sip of his tea instead. He places the cup on the table and stares straight ahead with a contemplative look. Sokka seems to consider this an invitation, pulling out a nearby chair and lounging on it.

“Wanna talk about it, buddy?”, he asks, his tone light, but the concern in his eyes palpable. Zuko just sighs again. Sokka won’t force him to talk about it, but he’s here and willing to listen and Zuko’s so lonely.

He draws a breath, then hesitates. He doesn’t know how to put his worries into words, doesn’t know how to speak of them in a way that doesn’t make him sound like an idiot for worrying. He wants to let go of this burden, but he just cannot figure out how to start. Before he can worry any more, he feels Sokka’s hand on his, warm, calloused, and gentle.

“Take your time, buddy. I’m here when you’re ready”, he says, the pad of his thumb beginning to run circles over the back of Zuko’s hand. Zuko is filled with a warm affectionate feeling that firmly lodges in his heart. He breathes deeply again and somehow, the words pour out, a mess that makes no sense.

“I just- I feel like no matter what I do- I can’t- I just-”, he stops himself again. Sokka’s hand remains a warm comfort. He breathes again and again, until he’s sure his voice will not shake when he speaks. He keeps his voice low and soft, and his eyes on the table.

“I’ve just been having trouble with the council”, he admits. He hasn’t told anyone this yet, but he knows he can tell Sokka. He knows that Sokka won’t judge him, won’t think he’s weak for being unable to deal with this situation. “They’re supposed to be my council, but at times, it feels like they’re my father’s advisors still. They see things the same way he did, they make no secret of the fact that they think I’m weak for ending the war, and I can just tell that they’re waiting for me to fail.”

He falls silent as he gathers his thoughts, and Sokka gives his hand a gentle squeeze. He looks up, meeting Sokka’s bright blue eyes, so filled with kindness and understanding. He has no words for how thankful he is to have such a good friend in his life, he just hopes his eyes are doing an adequate job of conveying his emotions.

“Some of them are great”, he continues. “They want to move forward and make amends as much as I do, but they’re outnumbered by the people who oppose me on principle and it’s just- it’s hard. It’s so damn hard to fight them on every single matter and at some point, I’m going to be too tired to fight them any more, and I’m going to give in to the wrong demand, and then everything we’ve accomplished so far will all go to waste, and we’ll be at war again, and-”

“Whoa, hey, calm down, buddy”, Sokka interrupted him before he could have a full blown panic attack. “Slow down, take a deep breath-”

“But I-”

“Uh huh. No buts. Take a deep breath and listen to me.”

Zuko frowns, but doesn’t argue. He nods jerkily and is rewarded with a blinding smile. _That smile is going to be the death of me_ , he thinks.

“I know you’re worried about a lot of things, I see the amount of stress you’re under, but there is something very important you’re forgetting”, Sokka tells him.

“And what’s that?”, Zuko asks sardonically, lifting an eyebrow. “What wisdom are you going to impart on me now?”

“Your people love you”, Sokka says simply. “You might not see it, because all your interactions are with stuck up nobles who have their own agendas, but your people know you have their best interests in mind. They know you’re doing everything for them and they appreciate it.”

“My intentions mean nothing if I can’t get the council to agree to any of my proposals!”, he argues.

“I tell you that your people love you and you latch on to the most insignificant part of what I said?”, Sokka says teasingly. “I should have known you wouldn’t be able to take a compliment.”

“I-”

“But what I said is true”, Sokka continues like he hasn’t been interrupted. “That’s what you need to keep in mind when you’re having trouble. Think of the people you’re doing this for. Think of how much you love them. And think of how much they love you in return. You're on the right side of history here, and I know you're strong enough to get things done. I mean", he pauses and snorts, "You didn't let the cold stop you from infiltrating the North Pole despite being a firebender. You're the most stubborn guy I know, and I believe in you.”

Zuko relaxes, feeling like a huge weight has been lifted off his shoulders. He doesn’t know how Sokka always manages to say the exact right thing to make him feel better. He feels a warmth in his chest, his heart brimming with warmth for the other man. To his horror, he finds he has to blink back tears.

“Uhhh… you okay, buddy?”, Sokka asks, looking at him like he was trying hard not to spook him.

“When did you get so wise?”, he asks, thankfully managing to keep the tears out of his voice.

“Ahhh”, Sokka’s grin returns. “I’m a big brother, you know. I’ve always been wise.”

Zuko snorts without meaning to. “Katara’s more likely to call you a big bother.”

“Ouch!”, Sokka clutches his hand to the right side of his chest. “You’ve wounded me.”

“That’s not where your heart is, you idiot”, Zuko says, but he can’t help the small smile that comes to his face.

“Made you laugh, though”, Sokka replies.

_Yeah, you did_ , Zuko wants to say. _You always do. Everytime I’m in your presence you make me so happy and my heart feels so full and I don’t know how to tell you but I think I love you,_ he thinks. But he doesn’t say that. He doesn’t say anything. He just lets his full heart and the warmth of Sokka’s presence lull him back to sleep.

(He wakes up in his own bed the next morning. He refuses to think about how that happened.)


	2. The Second Time

Zuko is currently hiding from his advisors. There’s probably a million things they have for him to do- proposals to read, documents to sign, decisions to make- but for a little while, he just wants to escape all of it. He’s just looking for some breathing room. Naturally, he goes to his favorite place in the palace- the turtleduck pond.

It’s not like his advisors don’t know that he comes here to relax or to forget about his responsibilities. They just happen to have the decency to not interrupt him when he’s there. (Or rather, unbeknownst to him, his personal guards, who are very protective of the young Firelord tend to bar his advisors and any council members from disturbing him. The only exception to this, of course, is Ambassador Sokka of the Southern Water Tribe.)

He sits by the pond, letting his fingers skim the water surface, the coolness a welcoming balm against the warmth of the day. As he draws random patterns with his fingers, his thoughts wander to everything he has to get done by the end of the week, when he is scheduled to discuss the situation in the colonies with a number of Earth Kingdom representatives. He groans internally as he realizes he has to prepare to talk to one particular Earth Kingdom ambassador who uses every available opportunity to make his life harder. He pulls his hand out of the pond and flops backward onto the soft grass, closing his eyes.

He hears a rustling noise and opens his eyes immediately, his brain still wired to expect danger. He tenses and is ready to attack by the time he realizes that it’s Sokka standing over him, arms crossed, with an amused smirk on his face. He relaxes and shakes his head, scoffing slightly to hide the fact that he had nearly set Sokka on fire.

“Of course it's you, could you be any creepier?”, he asks, closing his eyes once again, willing his racing heart to calm down.

“Is that an invitation?”, Sokka replies as he flops down by Zuko’s side. Zuko opens one eye to look at him, then promptly shuts it when he realizes how close their faces are.

“In your dreams”, he scoffs, then immediately cuts Sokka’s response off. Their faces are definitely close enough that if Sokka says something flirtatious, he’s going to see exactly how much Zuko blushes and Zuko cannot deal with that right now, thank you very much. “What are you doing here anyway?”

“Can’t I just visit my best friend in the whole wide world?”

“I’m telling Suki you said that.”

“Please, Suki knows that you’re as much my best friend as she is. Besides, you’re a lot harder to get a hold of.”

“Maybe I’m just avoiding you”, Zuko suggests.

“No!”, Sokka gasps. “Betrayed by my best and dearest friend! Oh, how do I go on from here?”

“I’m sure you’ll survive”, Zuko responds dryly. “You’ve lived through worse.”

“You know, for a firebender, you’re really cold sometimes”, Sokka huffs, but Zuko can hear the amusement and pride in his voice. Pride that Zuko is finally joking with him, teasing him, even outright mocking him. Once the war had ended, Sokka had taken it upon himself to ensure that Zuko 'developed a functioning sense of humor' as he called it, but it was an uphill battle, considering that Zuko had never found much time for fun or laughter before. After many, many years, Zuko can finally tell when Sokka’s being serious, when he’s being overly dramatic, when he’s setting up a joke and wants Zuko to play along. The pride in Sokka’s voice makes Zuko feel proud of himself too.

Any other day, Zuko would gladly keep this fond, teasing banter going for longer, but today, he has too many responsibilities for that. He hates that he has to cut it short, but he wants enough time to fully devote his attention to whatever has made Sokka come looking for him.

“Seriously, though”, Zuko says, opening his eyes and sitting up, “What are you here for?”

“Why won’t you believe me when I say it’s for the pleasure of your company?”

“Sokka.”

“Fine”, Sokka rolls his eyes and sits up too. “If you’re going to be like that, I’ll tell you. I came to give you something.”

Zuko waits for him to continue, but Sokka doesn’t, seeming content to play with a few blades of grass that he weaves into a pattern, humming absentmindedly. For a few seconds Zuko glares while Sokka pretends not to notice. Finally, Zuko sighs and rolls his eyes.

“And?”, he prompts, making Sokka look up at last.

“And what?”, he asks, looking unperturbed by how impatient Zuko is.

Zuko sighs deeply and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Are you going to give me whatever you have for me?”

“Are you going to say please?”

“Sokka, I swear to-”

Before Zuko can finish, a box lands on his lap. He picks it up and begins opening it warily as Sokka leans forward, smiling excitedly. By the time Zuko has the box open, Sokka looks nearly giddy with delight. Zuko opens his mouth to ask what has him so excited, when he catches sight of what's inside the box. His eyes widen when he realizes what Sokka has bought him. 

“Is this-?”

“Uh huh. You’re welcome, buddy.”

Nestled in the box is a hand-woven tapestry of a scene from Love Amongst the Dragons. Instantly, Zuko is reminded of watching the play with his mother, of playing pretend after they returned home, of clinging to a worn copy of the script because it was the only thing he had left of his mother. He thinks of happier and sadder times, and he feels tears pricking the corners of his eyes.

“I… thank you, Sokka, but I don’t… I don’t know what to say.”

“Do you… do you like it?”, Sokka asks. His smile fades as he sees the tears well up, and his expression grows more hesitant. It does something Zuko’s heart, seeing the usually confident man look so uncertain.

“I love it”, Zuko whispers, trying to keep his voice from breaking. “It’s my favorite play.”

“I know.” The smile is back and brighter than ever, and there’s just a little bit of smug pride in it. “You told me once”, he explains, seeing the confusion on Zuko’s face. “Back when we were on the run from Ozai.”

“You remembered that?”, Zuko asks in an incredulous voice. “That was five years ago!”

“I remember everything you tell me”, Sokka says simply, and Zuko definitely stops breathing this time. 

“I… I…”, Zuko stutters. He can’t quite comprehend this. This is more than Sokka being nice. This is not something he is obligated to do as part of his friendship with Zuko. This is him actively going out of his way to do something that nobody else has done for him before. No one pays that much attention to what he says, especially when it's just a passing comment. People certainly never remembered those things five years later, and definitely not well enough to get him a gift based on his favourite play. His brain shudders to a halt as he tries to process what exactly this implies. The gift here is not the tapestry itself, not to him, at least; the true gift is that Sokka cared enough to remember its importance. Zuko wonders, not for the first time, if he is over-analyzing this, but he can’t stop himself from reading between the lines.

“Thank you”, he forces out finally. “I… this… it means so much to me, you don’t even know”, he says, but even as he says it, the soft expression on Sokka’s face says he does know. “Just… thank you.”

“Any time, your highness”, Sokka teases as he pushes himself off the ground. “Besides, you need more fun in your life. You’re way too pretty to go prematurely gray.”

Just like that, he leaves, with Zuko still trying to process everything that just happened. 

He thinks _I feel loved when I’m with you_ and he thinks _I want to feel like this everyday for the rest of my life and I don’t care how selfish that is_ and he thinks _I love you and I have to say it out loud and maybe I can't do it right now, but I will one day and I want to see the look in your eyes when I do_. He thinks _you deserve to know how I feel whether or not you feel the same way_. 

Later, when he's putting the tapestry up in his office, he dares to think _maybe, just maybe, you might love me too_.


	3. The Third Time

There are upsides and downsides to any job. Working as a tea server, for instance, comes with the upside of not having to read through the world’s thickest documents every day, but the downside of dealing with the kind of customers who complained that there was too much ginger in their ginger tea. Being the Firelord, on the other hand has the upside of not being screamed at by customers who wanted a tea that the teashop had just run out of, but the downside of meetings that while not physically taxing, were mentally exhausting. Not to mention, of course, the recurrent assasination attempts.

While running around as a waiter had given Zuko a semi-permanent ache in the soles of his feet, his current position as Firelord had added a bad backache to the list of pains his body was quickly becoming accustomed to. His perpetually ink-covered fingers also regularly feel like they’re going to fall off, given that he does more writing now than he ever did in his childhood. His neck has a crick that has lasted for close to four days, a record that he’s sure he’ll beat within the year. More pressingly, there are fresh bruises on his back and left shoulder from the assassins he'd had to fight off a couple of days ago- bruises that he is currently ignoring in favor of his enormous workload.

He is busy putting the final touches on a new law regulating trade when he hears a knock at his door. Quickly, he runs his fingers through the hair that has been falling out of his topknot before calling out for the person to enter. He tries to hide his delight in the fact that it’s Sokka. (He fails miserably.)

“Hey, how was your shopping trip?”, he asks, half his attention still on the paper in front of him.

“It was good”, Sokka says, before hopping up onto the desk. “Missed you, though.”

And there it was. Sokka always dropped these declarations of affection into conversations in such a casual manner, like he didn’t think twice about saying those things. But everytime he did it, Zuko felt his heart skip a few beats. He would spend hours later, agonizing and over-analyzing them. _Is it just me_ , he wonders, _or is this just how Sokka talks to everyone? Am I putting too much thought into this?_ He’d never let the thoughts show on his face though. There was no way he was ready to have that conversation yet.

“Did you find everything you were looking for?”, he asks instead.

“I did.” Sokka leans sideways on the desk, his face comes closer to Zuko, who forgets how to breathe for a few seconds. “A few scrolls, a new cologne, a snack or two.”

“Good”, he says, trying desperately to focus on the conversation instead of how soft his friend’s lips look. “That’s… that’s good.”

“So, you gonna be free anytime soon?” Sokka plays with a flame-shaped paper weight that Aang had bought Zuko as a joke.

“In a while”, he replies, focusing back on the law, frowning as he tries to reword the last line. He reaches for a pen to correct a mistake and winces as his back screams in protest.

“Are you alright?”, Sokka asks, looking concerned. “Are you hurt or something?”

“I’m fine”, Zuko says and suppresses another wince as he starts writing.

“Zuko.”

“Sokka.”

“Fine, if you won’t tell me, I’ll just write a letter to your uncle. I’m sure he’s very invested in your wellbeing”, Sokka says, crossing his arms and staring Zuko down.

“Don’t you dare tell Uncle! You can’t bother him with this!”, Zuko whisper-yells, horrified.

“Then tell me what’s wrong!”, Sokka says, matching Zuko’s tone, but with a look that says he isn’t going to budge on this. 

Zuko sighs and puts his pen down and leans back in his chair, turning slightly to face Sokka. 

“It’s my back”, he admits reluctantly. “And my shoulder. From the assassins.”

“How long have you been in pain?”

Zuko mumbles something.

“I didn’t quite catch that, buddy.”

“Almost three days”, Zuko admits.

“Three days?”, Sokka yells. “ _THREE DAYS?_ ”

“ _Almost_ , the key word there was _almost_.”

Sokka pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs deeply. Then he moves to the rug near the fireplace and begins to move around some of the furniture to clear a space around himself.

“Come here”, he gestures to the open space.

“What?”, Zuko’s brow furrows. “What for? What are you going to do?”

Sokka sighs again. “I’m going to go fetch an ointment and apply it to the bruises you haven’t told anyone about for some reason!”

“I didn’t want them to stop me from working”, Zuko mumbles, not looking up from his desk. 

“You have advisors Zuko! Delegate!”, Sokka’s frustration is palpable.

“There’s still stuff I have to do myself, Sokka. I can’t make them do all my work! That would just make me look incompetent!”

Sokka rolls his eyes. “Whatever you say, buddy. Now, I need to actually see the bruises for this, so you might wanna, y’know”, he gestures at Zuko’s upper body.

Zuko, hit by the sudden realization that he was going to have to undress partially, flushes a bright red, but nods. Sokka gives him an awkward smile and leaves the room. Zuko hurriedly undresses and dumps the clothes on his chair before tying his hair up to stop it from getting in the way. By the time he stands in front of his desk, crossing his arms over his bare chest, Sokka’s back, carrying a tub of the aforementioned ointment.

“Okay, buddy”, Sokka says in a businesslike tone, not even lifting his eyes from the tub, “I’m gonna need you to come sit here with your back to me”.

Part of Zuko desperately wants to refuse. Having Sokka’s hands all over him- albeit in a platonic way- seems like a recipe for disaster if he wants to keep his feelings secret. On the other hand, he knows Sokka and his special brand of stubbornness well enough to know that he won’t just let this go. Not wanting to encourage any awkward questions, he quietly slinks forward and sits in front of Sokka, glad that he would have his back to the other man.

He tenses when Sokka’s fingers first touch his back- cold and tingly from the ointment, but very gentle. He forces himself not to shudder when Sokka places his other palm on his uninjured shoulder to steady him. He feels every movement, every brush of Sokka’s fingertips against his back, and he forces himself not to sink back into the touch. 

He feels safe with Sokka, he feels at home. For years, he has tried to keep these feelings bottled up, tried not to act on them, because he doesn’t want to lose their friendship. Things are marginally different now, because he has evidence that Sokka loves him, but he doubts that it’s in the same way he loves Sokka. He always tries hard to convince himself that he is fine with their very platonic friendship, but lately, he has been failing miserably. _Things would be easier if Sokka didn’t make it so easy for me to fall in love with him, he thinks, but then again, when has life ever made things easier for me? If he knew what he was doing to me, he would probably stop_ , he thinks and somehow, that idea brings an ugly, aching pain with it. He quickly shuts his thoughts out and tries to focus only on the feeling of Sokka’s fingers brushing against him- a feeling he doesn’t know if he will ever get to feel again.

“There”, whispers Sokka after an excruciatingly long time, “I’m done.”

Against his better judgement, Zuko turns around slowly and meets Sokka’s eyes. They seem to call to him, and he finds himself unable to look away. His face is inches apart from Sokka's, and as they stare into each other's eyes for what feels like an eternity, their breathing starts to match pace. Neither looks away, neither blinks. They stay like that for the longest moment, before Sokka reaches up to tuck a few escaped strands of Zuko’s hair behind his ear. His fingers trail across Zuko’s cheek, impossibly gentle against the ridge of his scar, and he lets his palm rest against his chin. They inch closer, little by little, and Zuko can feel Sokka’s breath on his face. His eyes begin to flutter close, and he can hear his heart pounding in his ears. He is sure his face is flushed but for once, he cannot bring himself to care. All he can manage to think about is how Sokka’s lips will feel against his.

Before anything happens, a furious pounding at the door interrupts them.

“Lord Zuko?”, calls the booming voice of one of his guards. “Sir, there is a matter of utmost importance that you need to handle personally.”

The two of them spring apart hurriedly, both equally flushed and avoiding each other’s eyes. Sokka busies himself with closing the tub that had rolled out of his hand, while Zuko dresses frantically, his fingers fumbling as he keeps thinking back to how close he had come to kissing Sokka.

“Lord Zuko? Is something wrong?”, the guard calls again at the lack of response.

“Everything’s fine, I’ll be there in a minute”, Zuko calls back, trying to sound calm and authoritative instead of highly flustered, before turning back to Sokka. “Listen-”

“I’ll come back when you’re less busy”, Sokka says hastily, still not meeting Zuko’s eyes. “Just… take care of yourself.” He awkwardly pats Zuko’s uninjured shoulder and hurries out, stopping to assure the guard outside that Zuko will definitely be out in a few minutes, before rushing away. 

(As much as Zuko tries to smooth out his clothes and hair, he still manages to look frazzled as he leaves his office, and a faint blush remains on his face. He does not appreciate the knowing looks he gets from his guards.)


	4. That Other Time

“What exactly is the point of a secret garden?”, Sokka grouses as he and Zuko make their way through an excessively twisted path. “I mean, it’s a garden. Why would you need to hide it?”

“Are you going to complain the whole way there?”, Zuko asks impatiently. “If you are, tell me now so I can leave you here.”

“You wouldn’t abandon me on the side of the road, would you? Me? Your best friend?”

Zuko stops and turns to face Sokka, a single eyebrow raised. “Try me.”

Sokka rolls his eyes, but seems to believe that Zuko would actually do it, because his complaints stop. They walk in comfortable silence for a while, their hands brushing occasionally. Every time it happens, Zuko’s fingers tingle in a pleasantly distracting way. He finds himself hyper aware of how close he is to Sokka, how their hands seem to be at level with each other, how he could probably slip his hand into Sokka’s and interlace their fingers if he wanted to-

“Seriously though”, Sokka interrupts his train of thought, “Why would a garden be kept secret? From what I understand, aren’t gardens supposed to be a public resource?”

Zuko sighs. _Might as well answer his questions and keep my mind off of how much I want to hold his hand_ , he thinks.

“It was my great-grandmother’s private garden”, he admits. “She would go there to escape when things were stressful,”

“I guess that makes sense”, Sokka agrees. Zuko frowns. Seeing the confused expression, he adds, “Being married to Sozin, I’d want somewhere to escape too.”

“Oh, no”, Zuko clarifies, the confusion fading immediately. “My other great-grandmother. Ta Min. Roku’s wife.”

“Oh right”, he grins. “I keep forgetting that technically, Aang’s your great-grandfather.”

Zuko rolls his eyes. “Aang is not my great-grandfather.”

“Sure, you keep telling yourself that, buddy”, Sokka’s grin widens. “Hey, by the way, doesn’t that make Katara your-”

“No.”

“But she’s-”

“No. Do you want to hear the rest of the story or not?”

Sokka pouts. “No fair.”

“You make fun of me, you don’t get a story. That’s how it works”, Zuko says firmly, forcing himself not to look at Sokka’s face. That pout had made him cave more times than he cared to admit.

“Fine, back to the story”, Sokka says sulking.

“Right, like I was saying, she and Roku would be invited to stay at the palace pretty frequently, and the garden was her little piece of her home. She would leave it open to the public. People would show up all the time, at all times of the day, and she made sure that they would never be turned away, whether she was there or not. Citizens, visitors, everyone was allowed in. She loved the place, she was so proud of it.”

Zuko stops, taking a deep breath. The rest of the story… it always brought back his big fears. Sokka picks up on his sudden change in mood and stops walking, putting a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“What happened?”, he asks, his voice even and comforting.

“Roku died”, he says, his eyes flicking up to Sokka’s and then back to the road. “Ta Min… she moved away, she never came back here. And Sozin…”, he breathes deeply again. “Sozin didn’t want anyone to have any good memories associated with Roku, or his wife, for that matter, so he closed it up. Nobody was allowed in ever again. That’s why it’s a secret. Nobody in the Fire Nation remembers it anymore. Even I only know about it from the stories my mother heard from her mother.”

For the rest of the walk, they both stay silent. Sokka’s arm brushes against Zuko’s, but this time, there is something more purposeful about it. His presence remains a welcome comfort. At the very least, it stops Zuko from spiralling into his usual train of worries about being similar to Sozin.

When they reach the gates, Zuko takes one steadying look at Sokka who nods at him reassuringly. He steps forward and carefully melts the padlock, pushing the gate open. He goes to step in, but hesitates. He turns back to Sokka.

“I think we should go in together”, he says. “That’s why I invited you to come with me.”

“You sure?”, Sokka asks, concern dripping from his entire demeanor. “You have a personal connection to this place, buddy. If this is something you need to do on your own, I understand.”

“I’m sure.”

“I won’t even complain about you making me come all this way for anything, I promise”, Sokka offers, but where his words are joking, his face is dead serious.

“Sokka”, Zuko looks him right in the eye. “I’m sure. I want you to come with me.”

Something in his face or voice must have convinced Sokka, because he doesn’t object again. He moves towards Zuko with purpose and offers his open hand.

“Together?”, he asks.

Zuko takes it. “Together.”

They walk into the garden together, hand in hand. There is an eerie beauty about the abandoned garden- even though the whole place is overgrown by weeds and plants are wilting, it is easy to see why it was once considered one of the most beautiful gardens in the Fire Nation. Despite this, Zuko can only focus on the fact that he’s holding Sokka’s hand. His heart is beating double time and he is acutely worried that his palm might be clammy with sweat. He keeps sneaking little glances at Sokka as they stride forward until they reach the broken fountain in the middle of the garden.

They stop there, Sokka looking around while Zuko studies the carvings around the edge carefully, until he hears Sokka clear his throat softly.

“What?”, Zuko asks, his voice a whisper, as though speaking too loudly would disturb his surroundings.

“We’re uhh… we’re still holding hands”, Sokka whispers back.

“Oh!”, Zuko says, but makes no move to let go of Sokka’s hand. He doesn't want to stop. Sokka seems to feel similarly, considering that he doesn’t let go either. Their eyes meet again and Zuko can’t quite tell what the expression Sokka’s wearing is.

“I want to open it to the public again”, Zuko blurts out. Sokka raises an eyebrow. “The garden, I mean. I want to open the garden to the public.”

“That’s a good plan.” 

“Once I make this place what it used to be, I want people to be able to see it again”, he begins to ramble. “It’s like you said, what’s the point of a garden being secret? Everyone should be allowed to come here. I think that’s what my great-grandmother would have wanted.”

“I’m sure she’d be proud of you”, Sokka says, his voice sincere and a soft expression on his face- the same fond expression Zuko gets every time he thinks of Sokka.

“But you- I didn’t want you to see it then”, Zuko says, then immediately curses himself for phrasing his words in the worst possible way. 

Sokka looks hurt, and it makes Zuko want to hit himself. He starts to pull away, but Zuko tightens his grip and hastily shakes his head. “No, I- That’s not what I meant.”

Sokka stops pulling away, but now the full intensity of his gaze is on Zuko, who has to take a deep breath to compose himself.

“I wanted you to see it now. Before anyone else did. When you and I are the only ones who know about it.”

Sokka’s eyes widen as realization dawns on him. Zuko recognizes what that looks like, he’s felt it himself. Sokka licks his lips nervously and Zuko tries very hard not to follow the motion with his eyes. 

“Why?”, Sokka asks, his voice barely a whisper.

“I think you know why”, Zuko says, equally quietly.

“Say it anyway.”

Zuko swallows, hoping he hasn’t misread this situation terribly. He slowly lifts his free hand to cup Sokka’s cheek. Sokka’s hand comes down on top of it, holding it in place and Zuko can feel the calluses on his palm against the back of his own hand.

“Can I-?”, he whispers, his eyes conveying all the desperation he feels.

“Yes, yes please”, and with that, Sokka’s lips are on his. He feels them, warm and soft and impossibly gentle. His eyelids flutter close and he finds himself lost in the addictive warmth of Sokka’s embrace. The kiss starts hesitant and stays chaste, but it sends a heat rushing through Zuko’s body. He feels Sokka slide one hand into his hair as the other one comes up to cradle his cheek. He pushes his own hand into Sokka’s hair and rests it at the back of his neck. When their lips part, Zuko finds himself gasping for breath. Kissing Sokka is better than he’s ever imagined (and he has imagined it quite a lot), but it’s over too soon.

“We should have done that way long ago”, Sokka says, huffing out a laugh.

“I’m in love with you”, Zuko blurts out, before looking horrified, clapping a hand over his mouth. “I didn’t mean for it to come out like that.”

Sokka laughs, but there’s a hint of fondness to it. “Is it true though?”

“I… yeah. It’s true”, Zuko admits.

“I’m in love with you too, buddy”, Sokka says, tucking a strand of hair behind Zuko’s ear. Zuko stares at him affronted. “What?”

“You- You can’t kiss me and tell me you love me and then call me buddy!”

“Oh I’m sorry”, Sokka responds easily, “I love you too, sweetheart.” Zuko blushes furiously at the unexpected endearment. “Oh, you like that, do you?”

“Shut up”, Zuko mumbles, turning away to hide his rapidly reddening face.

“You do! Come on _sweetheart_ , there’s no reason to be shy about it.”

Zuko gives him an utterly unimpressed look. “You know if Aang’s technically my great-grandfather, that makes you my great grand-uncle, right?”

Sokka’s face scrunches up immediately, and Zuko is annoyed at how adorable he finds it. “Why would you say that?”, Sokka asks, sounding pained.

“Turnabout’s fair play, _sweetheart_. Now come on, we still have half a garden to explore.” He walks away, a small smile on his face, partly from getting even and partly from having his feelings reciprocated. Sokka catches up quickly.

“When you say explore, that means we can make out, right?”, he asks.

Zuko slips his hand into Sokka’s and turns to face him with a sweet smile. “Absolutely.”


End file.
